Page 53 of Conail

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"I suppose I should ask your family's blessings." He muttered, twirling a thick curl around his finger. They were at the cabin, flushed from a very frenzied bout of lovemaking. He had asked her to marry him, and she had not hesitated to say yes. She had also agreed to the Valentine's Day wedding.

Easing herself up, she planted her hands on his chest, eyes twinkling. "I suppose you should."

"Baby, there's simply no way we can pull off a wedding in two weeks." His heart simply turned over at the look of her. The thick curls were all over the place and her lips were swollen from his very hungry kisses.

"We have my aunt, myself, your mom and Yasmine. So, yes we can pull it off."

"We could wait until spring."

"No." She shook her head and sent the curls tumbling around her face. "I have wasted too much time already."

She touched his jaw lightly. "I want to be your wife before I discover I'm pregnant."

His eyes grew wide. "You think you are?"

She nodded happily. "I have a strong feeling. We haven't been using anything, and I am late."

He hauled her on top of him, hands shaking. "Is it too soon?" He asked anxiously.

"I want your baby growing inside me." She told him solemnly. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Her voice shook. "I never dreamed that I would be given a second chance, and I am here with you now."

She blinked back tears. "I don't want to waste a minute of it."

He cupped her face, his own hands unsteady, his breathing shallow. "There are conditions."

"What are they?"

"We live off what I have. I mean it darling. I know you're a fancy lawyer--" He stopped when she placed a finger over his lips.

"None of that." She ordered sternly. "I love you Colin. You're the only man I have ever loved, and I will live in a cave if it means being with you."

For a minute, he could not speak for the lump in his throat.

Pulling her head down, he poured what he could not say in the kiss.

Chapter 14

Sunlight poured into the room and had him opening his eyes, his head groggy and his mind muddled. He had been drinking last night. Right after he entered his apartment, he had gone straight for the bottle of scotch and imbibed half of it before tumbling into bed.

His night had not been restful but had been chased with dreams -- erotic ones that left him throbbing and uncomfortable.

Prying his eyes open, he rose up against the pillows and tried to get a grip on reality and his sanity.

Dragging restless fingers through his already disheveled hair, he started to rationalize and reason. He wanted her. Last night at her place had proven his desperate need for her.

It was unexpected. He had never experienced that kind of mindless passion that had taken over his entire senses before.Her passion had rivaled his and even now, he could still taste her, still feel her wrapped tight around him.

So, what does it all mean? he mused. He had fallen in love once and it had ended in disaster. This was even more potent, more of everything. He could not explain any of it. She was not his type. Not that he had anything against the color black, he had simply never dated one before. And his women were always petite. She wasn't.

Clamping his hands on his throbbing head, he closed his eyes as his thoughts spun crazily. What the hell was he going to do?

First things first -- a gallon of coffee. It was Sunday and he usually slept in and did some work. The shipment had arrived from China. He had some contracts to look over.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he grabbed a robe to cover his naked body and headed downstairs. The coffee pot was already set up; all he had to do was touch the button.